


Part 4: Kono Kowakunai Hyakumonogatari (This Hyakumonogatari Isn’t Scary)

by aegicheezu



Series: The Sorcerer and the Court Noble: Onmyoji [5]
Category: Japanese Mythology, Onmyouji | The Yin-Yang Master (Movies)
Genre: Fluff, Ghost Stories, Japanese Folklore, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-19
Updated: 2018-02-19
Packaged: 2019-03-21 07:46:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13736352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aegicheezu/pseuds/aegicheezu
Summary: It’s the height of summer; Hiromasa and Seimei are celebrating their anniversary by conducting a hyakumonogatari (a hundred ghost-story telling). Most young lovers would opt for an evening of sweet words, moon-gazing, and exchanging poetry, but this court noble and his magician are far from ordinary.





	Part 4: Kono Kowakunai Hyakumonogatari (This Hyakumonogatari Isn’t Scary)

**Author's Note:**

> Note: set after the 2nd Onmyoji film

“Good morning, my love,” Hiromasa cooed into Seimei’s ear. He swept the other man’s long hair aside, exposing his long white neck, and kissed it.

“Hmmm…” Seimei hummed in response, still half-sleeping. “Good morning, master flute player,” he teased. Hiromasa blushed at his not-so-subtle double meaning. Turning and wrapping his arms around Hiromasa, he kissed him back. “What shall we do today, I wonder?”

“It is already so hot, Seimei… let us rest in the garden with cold tea and breakfast.” It was true; the morning sun, barely risen, was burning hot. The cicadas had not yet begun to sing, but it wouldn’t be long. Hiromasa smiled. _In this morning light, you do sometimes resemble a fox,_ he teased, kissing Seimei’s nose. Seimei laughed.

“And you,” he said, “look like a foreign prince, with your hair fallen about your shoulders,” he gingerly slipped Hiromasa’s sleeping yukata from his shoulder and pressed a kiss to the golden-brown skin. It was approaching the middle of summer; Hiromasa’s already dark skin turned a delightful shade of brown in the morning light.

“Seimei…” Hiromasa cautioned, “do not start something you don’t intend to finish,” he slipped his hand around the back of the other man’s neck and brought their faces close for a soft, deep kiss.

Somewhere in the garden, Mitsumushi flitted to and fro, following the shade.

*

“Thank you for all your hard work, today again, Seimei. And you, Minamoto no Hiromasa,” the Emperor said.

Hiromasa and Seimei bowed in seamless unison. _How hot it is, in these heavy robes!_ Hiromasa thought. Seimei smiled, despite the formality of the situation. _Do not worry,_ he replied, _I’ll have you out of them soon enough._

Hiromasa blushed.

The Emperor, completely unaware of the pair’s exchange, continued. “My ascent to the throne has not been a smooth one, Seimei,” he cleared his throat. “So, I am in rather desperate need for the Gion Matsuri to go well. It is the first big festival of my reign, and those who conspire against me will be looking for any excuse to derail my seat.”

 _Even though he was the previous Emperor’s brother,_ Hiromasa thought, _he worries so about his position._ “Do not fret, your majesty,” he replied, “Seimei and I have performed the necessary rites and gave given the palace women and children their talismans to protect against the heat. All will be well.”

Seimei smiled. _How confident you’ve grown,_ he thought. _When this is over---_

_Seimei! Focus!_

_Apologies, Hiromasa. t must be the heat._

Hiromasa stifled a laugh.

“That will be all for today,” the Emperor concluded. “You have my leave to go.”

“Your majesty,” Seimei began, rising. “There is something I must request.”

“Oh?”

“Might I leave the capital for a few days, to visit my mother’s grave? I am her only living son. It is my duty, you understand.”

The Emperor looked surprised; he had heard the rumours of Seimei’s birth and was thrown by his mentioning his mother as though she had been a human woman. Nonetheless, he agreed to give the pair some time away from the capital. Thanking him, the men bowed low and left the palace to return to Seimei’s home.

Back in the safety of their carriage, Hiromasa spoke freely. “Why did you lie to the Emperor?” He stroked Seimei’s palm with his fingers.

“I did not lie, Hiromasa,” he replied matter-of-factly. “It is about time I paid a visit to my mother.”

“But your mother was not human,” Hiromasa recalled, “you told me so yourself.”

“Just because she was not entirely human, Hiromasa, does not mean that she does not have a grave,” he explained. “I loved my mother very much. I have thought of her often, lately. Perhaps it is because she left this world on a hot day such as this. I have not been back to my ancestral home in some time, and it is the season to remember loved ones.”

Hiromasa nodded, understanding. “Do you miss her, Seimei? You hardly speak of her.” He stroked the other man’s cheek, thankful for the privacy of their carriage. “I know how very special she was to you.”

“Inside this immortal body of mine,” he sighed, “beats the heart of a devoted son. I do miss her. She made me who I am.”

Hiromasa smiled. “Then let us go to her, Seimei. We will remember her well, together.” He kissed Seimei’s cheek softly.

“I knew you wouldn’t mind,” he smiled. “And I do believe,” he looked out the small window of the cart, and breathed the summer air, “I do believe we have something to celebrate, ourselves.” He squeezed Hiromasa’s hand and winked. “Do you remember?”

Hiromasa thought for a moment, face scrunched. “Ah!” he exclaimed, kissing Seimei’s cheek again. “that’s right, isn’t it? We kissed for the first time… a year ago this month, if I recall correctly, Seimei.”

“I believe you do recall correctly, my love.”

Laughter.

*

Happily, the pair had been able to rent a room in a small inn, on the outskirts of Kamigyō-ku. The journey had been exhausting and bumpy; the heat as oppressive as ever. At last on solid ground after a few hours travel, the pair changed out of their robes and into thin summer yukata. The inn was deserted but for the elderly couple that ran it and two or three attendants to provide tea and food if they asked for it – they were quite alone.

“The air feels different here, Seimei,” Hiromasa noted, breathing in deeply. “Why is that?”

“My dearest love,” Seimei cooed, smiling. “I do believe your spiritual powers may be intensifying.” Hiromasa looked at him quizzically. Seimei laughed, and continued, “that you are able to sense this change in the air is not insignificant.”

“What does it mean?” Hiromasa pressed on, still confused. “I have no spirits in my lineage, of that I am quite sure.”

Again, Seimei laughed. “I do believe that your newfound abilities may have something to do with your spending so much time with me,” he slipped his hand underneath the shoulder of Hiromasa’s yukata and stroked the smooth skin. “And the nature of our… connection,” he whispered into his ear, “perhaps, in my own way, I am giving some of my... magic to you, when we are...” Hiromasa blushed a bright red, understanding his rather unsubtle meaning.

Hiromasa tilted his head back to kiss Seimei – just as he pressed his lips to Seimei’s neck, a voice called from beyond their papered door.

“Would you like some tea?” the innkeeper’s daughter called sweetly.

Hiromasa leapt across the room with an athleticism he was unaware he possessed, eliciting an outburst of laughter from Seimei. He slid open the door, desperately trying to calm his rising blush.

“Yes, thank you.” He took the tray from her, bowing. “No need to bring it in,” he smiled, trying to compose himself. “It is hot; we will retire soon. We will not require anything more for the evening, please leave us.” He waved the young girl away. Seimei couldn’t help but laugh; Hiromasa shot him a look. _Don’t you dare, Seimei!_ He thought.

The attendant, oblivious to the pair’s previous conversation, gave a puzzled smile, bowed slightly, and left. Hiromasa exhaled comically; he knew how his exaggerations made Seimei smile – he succeeded, Seimei’s grin grown wider – and he brought the tea over to him.

“Tea?” He asked, pouring, unable to keep a straight face himself.

“Yes please,” Seimei wiped a tear from his eye.

*

Some time later, when the moon had risen high in the sky, Seimei awoke in Hiromasa’s arms. Though the evening air had cooled considerably, small beads of sweat still clung to the other man’s forehead. He wiped them away with one hand, running his fingers through Hiromasa’s long black hair.

_Thank you for coming with me, my love. I do not think I could have made this journey alone. I am glad I will be able to share it with you._

“You are most welcome, Seimei,” Hiromasa replied sleepily. “I would not have wanted to be apart from you for so many days.”

“I’m sorry to have woken you,” Seimei apologized. “I sometimes forget that you are able to hear me, now.”

“I am glad of it,” Hiromasa rolled onto his back and drew Seimei close so that the other man’s head rested in the crook of his neck. “Now I no longer have to wonder what goes on in your brilliant mind.”

“Ever the poet, I see,” Seimei teased, kissing Hiromasa’s neck, salty with sweat. “Let us make the journey to my mother tomorrow,” he looked up at the other man. “The weather will be good for a visit to where she rests.”

“Alright,” Hiromasa agreed. “But for now, let us rest. The night is waning fast,” he kissed Seimei’s forehead. “And you have tired me out, body and soul.”

Seimei grinned. “I am not sorry for that,” he teased. “How many nights have you wrenched those same sounds from my lips?”

“Come here,” Hiromasa smiled, pulling Seimei up to meet his gaze. Kissing him deeply, he was grateful for the solitude of their little sojourn.

*

“It’s not far now, Hiromasa,” Seimei assured, “it has been some time, but I know exactly where we are headed.” They made their way through the thick forest, glad for the cover of the trees – the sun was high in the sky now, and the air was heavy. “My mother was not buried with the others of our village,” he explained, “because of what she was.”

“Why is that, Seimei?” Hiromasa asked, confused. “Did she not have a human form?” He thought of the young Seimei, burying his mother alone, and was suddenly saddened.

“It was her last wish,” he replied, seemingly unbothered by the memory, his tone calm. “She did not want to have her earthly body surrounded by the souls of mere mortals, with all of their unfinished business and negative thoughts. She wanted a peaceful journey to the other world.”

Hiromasa quickened his pace to walk side by side with the other man. “I understand,” he said. “Still, how cruel,” he placed a hand on Seimei’s arm, “for a young boy to have had to bury his mother.”

Seimei stopped walking and met Hiromasa’s concerned eyes. He smiled, touched. “Look how much my handsome court noble cares for me,” he cradled Hiromasa’s head in one hand. “Worry not, my love,” he cooed, “with you by my side, I will not feel as sad.”

The pair continued their journey, listening to the hum of the cicadas growing every stronger. After a few more minutes, Seimei stopped abruptly. “We are here,” he said, voice even. Hiromasa looked around, unable to find a grave marker.

“Seimei, I don’t see---”

“Shh,” he silenced the other man. “Do not move. Where you stand is sacred ground, Hiromasa.” He knelt down and ran a careful hand along the forest floor, caressing the green leaves of the young plants that sprouted from the ground. He began to pray, a delicate finger pressed to his lips. Hiromasa knelt down where he stood, not daring to utter a word until Seimei was finished. As Seimei uttered his prayers, the ground began to grow warm – _or is that simply my imagination?_ Hiromasa wondered. Gentle curls of purple smoke began to curl from under the soft forest ground. Hiromasa held his breath, unsure of what was to come.

“Seimei…” a soft voice echoed in the ears of both men. “Seimei…”

“I am here, mother,” Seimei replied, as calm as ever. Hiromasa’s eyes widened, confused. _Why can I hear her, too?_ “I am sorry I have not come to visit you recently. Forgive me.”

“I will always forgive you, my dearest son,” the warm voice said. Seimei appeared to relax at this admission from his mother’s spirit. “You look so very well.” Seimei smiled.

“Mother,” he began, “have you been watching me, from the next world?”

“Of course, my son. I have been looking out for you,” she replied. “I see how wonderfully happy you are now, after so, so many years alone… and I am glad.” Hiromasa looked on and smiled lovingly. _Does she know of me? I wonder…_ “Minamoto no Hiromasa, come forward,” the voice beckoned gently. “I wish to speak with you.”

Seimei looked back at the other man, and motioned for him to join him where he knelt. “It is quite alright, Hiromasa,” he smiled. “Come here.” Hiromasa did as he was told and knelt beside Seimei. He swallowed hard, unsure of what to do next. He looked at Seimei, confused.

“Minamoto no Hiromasa,” the voice began again, “it is good to see you.”

“My Lady,” Hiromasa bent his head. “it is an honor.”

“You are a good man,” the voice continued, “I see how dear you are to my precious son. I am glad that you are with him.”

Hiromasa exhaled, relieved. “My Lady,” he said, “I am sorry you suffered so. Seimei speaks of you with such great love.”

“Mother,” Seimei added, “it is important to me that you bless Hiromasa and I wish your protection, from now on.” He rested a hand on Hiromasa’s back. “Will you continue to watch over us, and protect our duties to the capital?”

“Of course, my darling child. Seeing how well you are, with Minamoto no Hiromasa by your side, it is one of my greatest delights. I will continue to protect you.” Hiromasa looked over at Seimei, who was rummaging in his bag.

“Mother, I have brought you these,” he produced a small bundle of flowers with tiny sutras wrapped around the stems. “I am sorry I have not returned to tend to your resting place in some time. Please allow me to leave these here for your continued safety and health in the other world.”

He held the flowers in his hands, keeping them close to his chest, as though he was waiting for permission.

“Lay them down, Seimei,” the voice said at last. “their scent reaches me… how sweet these flowers are. You have remembered my favorites, after so many years. My dear boy.” Seimei gently placed the flowers on the ground, running his fingers over their delicate petals.

Hiromasa looked on, his heart full. _What a good son you must have been…_ he bowed his head and offered a prayer of his own.

“Seimei,” his mother said, “tell me, is today not a special day for the two of you?”

Seimei smiled, and looking at Hiromasa, he replied, “you are right, mother. It is a day of many happy memories for Hiromasa and I.” He took the other man’s hand in his, and squeezed gently.

“Then, my son, go.” His mother’s voice was soft, kind. “Do not spend this day in the company of the dead.”

“But, mother---” he began to protest.

“Go now, Seimei. My heart is full, to see you so happy. But today is a day for the living.”

Nodding, Seimei smiled. “Mother, I will return again soon. I promise.”

“I know you will, my darling boy.”

“My Lady,” Hiromasa bent his head low. “It has been a great honor to have met you. I will include you in my prayers from this day on.”

“He is a good man, is he not, my son?” the voice seemed lighter, almost laughing. “Take your beloved flute player and go happily.”

“Yes, mother,” Seimei bowed. “Until next time.”

He pressed his lips to the ground and, blinking away little tears, he sealed her resting place with whispered sutras. The pair sat in stillness for a while, breathing in the forest air. Then, satisfied, Seimei turned to Hiromasa.

“Thank you,” he said softly. “For making this journey with me.” He rested his head on Hiromasa’s shoulder. His voice was a little weaker than usual; Hiromasa knew that speaking to his mother after so long must have been hard for him.

“Come here,” Hiromasa drew the other man close, and kissed his forehead. “I will always be by your side. No matter what happens. You will never have to make this journey alone again.” Seimei burrowed his head into the crook of Hiromasa’s neck, and let tears fall. Feeling Seimei’s chest begin to heave with soft sobs, Hiromasa held him tighter, stroking his back. “It’s alright, Seimei. You can cry all you need to. It’s just you and I, here.”

“Thank you,” Seimei repeated after a while, allowing Hiromasa to wipe his tear-stained cheeks. “Let us return to our rooms.”

“Yes, my love.”

*

The pair spent the rest of the day resting on the comparatively cool tatami mats, fresh for the season. They told stories back and forth, making each other laugh. They took a break from their storytelling for a meal; the innkeeper brought it to them himself, and they sat and chatted for a while. _Being so far from the capital is a blessing in disguise,_ Hiromasa thought. _This dear old man has no idea who you really are._

“On a hot summer night like this, you young men should have a little fun,” the elderly man said. “It’s the season for telling ghost stories.”

“Oh?” Seimei feigned ignorance. “Whatever do you mean?”

“They say the spirits are strong, on nights like this,” the innkeeper explained. “The summer heat makes them want to visit with their loved ones. If you tell enough stories, it pleases them, and you may even be visited by one.” He paused, smiling. “When I was young, my grandfather visited me on a night like this, when I was telling a hundred ghost stories with my friends.”

“Really?” Hiromasa asked, genuinely. “I’ve never heard of that happening before!” Seimei snorted; he shot him a look. _What? You never told me that hyakumonogatari actually summoned real spirits! I thought it was a childhood prank!_

“You young gentlemen should try your luck,” the innkeeper continued. “I’ll ensure that you are not disturbed for the rest of the evening, if you’d like to try it for yourselves.”

Seimei smiled, nodding. “Yes, why don’t we try that, Seimei?” He looked at his companion. “It might be rather fun, don’t you think?”

*

Seimei lit four candles and placed them in each corner, whispering a spell to create a barrier. Hiromasa waited for his preparations to conclude, sitting in the center of the room. “If we are to do this, we must take precautions,” he said, sitting across from Hiromasa at last. “Because we are only two, we will not have to tell a hundred stories,” he explained. “Four each should be enough. An even number.”

“Why does it have to be even?” Hiromasa asked, genuinely curious.

Seimei laughed. “Do you not know, after all this time?” He patted Hiromasa’s hand. “You must better focus on our time spent in study, my love.”

“But how can I focus,” Hiromasa kissed the other man’s cheek, then his lips. “when my teacher is so handsome?”

Seimei blushed.

“Come now, Hiromasa. We’ve begun the preparations, we cannot stop until the rounds of stories are complete.” Despite his protestations, Seimei grinned and kissed the other man’s cheek. “I’ll start, shall I?”

“Alright,” Hiromasa replied.   

*

“Seimei, that last one was frightening,” Hiromasa chided, a smile on his face. “How could you end on such a scary note? Now I will have bad dreams.”

Seimei smiled. “Thus concludes our rather abridged hyakumonogatari,” he bent his head, and clapped his hands reverently. “May this space be cleansed of any energies we have brought with our stories.”

Hiromasa swallowed hard. “Seimei, you do not think… we have summoned any spirits?” He looked around the room, nervously. _You are so powerful, after all._

“All will be well, I assure you.” He walked to each of the four corners and extinguished the candles, whispering an incantation with every one. “Though, it is almost a little disappointing that we could not summon a being with our stories, on a night such as this.”

“Seimei!” Hiromasa joked. “Surely you have had your fill of handling spirits and demons,” he slid behind the other man and wrapped an arm around his waist. “Tonight, it is just the two of us, alone at last.”

“Yes,” he tilted his head back and invited Hiromasa to kiss him. “We are quite alone at last.”

“And the Emperor does not expect us back for some days,” Hiromasa continued. “I do believe we have earned this rest.” He gently spun Seimei around so that he met his gaze, and took his face in his hands to kiss him deeply. “My beautiful magician.”

Seimei sunk into Hiromasa’s embrace. “My darling flute-player,” Seimei cooed against Hiromasa’s lips, “take me to bed. I am tired…” he wrapped his arms around Hiromasa’s neck. “And I grow rather hungry.” He kissed Hiromasa gently at first, then, sliding his tongue along the other man’s lips, deepened the kiss and held tightly to the back of his neck.

“As you wish,” Hiromasa purred, grinning.


End file.
